


Two Lives Again

by liraeth_archive



Series: Always With You [2]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liraeth_archive/pseuds/liraeth_archive
Summary: Sequel to "Always With You". Originally Published c. 2002





	Two Lives Again

Timeline:

 **December 14, T.A. 3018** : Ithil and Legolas’ last night in Imladris   
 **January 17, T.A 3019** : Ithil leaves Middle-earth   
 **March 25, T.A. 3019** : The Ring is destroyed   
 **Midyear’s Day (approx. July 1), T.A. 3019** : Arwen and Aragorn are wed.   
 _ **January 28, T.A. 3020** : This story begins_   
 **September 29, T.A 3021** : RotK officially ends, and Frodo, Elrond, etc. sail to Valinor   
 **March 1, F.A. 120** : The last of the Fellowship leaves Middle-earth.

~

 _Autar i lumbor, ar Naira_    
 _Kénan anúta Númenna_    
 _et Rómello Tilion orta,_    
 _ar undómess’ elen síla_

[The clouds pass, and I see   
the Sun setting in the West   
and from the East the Moon rises   
and in the twilight the stars shine]

 As her voice died down and the last note of the song faded in to the night air, Ithil let the lines of worry smooth from her face. She cradled the small bundle in her arms closer to her chest, sharing what little warmth she could.

 For the most part, she liked this new world she had come to. It had its differences from the world she’d spent a few years in not too long ago. Of course, the Tokyo here was different; at least from the pictures she’d seen. This time, she had arrived in a different place, one that spoke the Common Tongue that Men did back in Arda. They called it English here, and accepted her accent as British.

 That thought brought a familiar face to mind. Aino Minako.

 A few weeks before, she had been walking in the city near the small forest she called home. She rarely left the safety of the trees in this place the Men of this world called “Central Park”, but it had been necessary that day to go in search of food that couldn’t be found or hunted in her forest. Elves didn’t need to eat nearly as often as Men, but Ithil had found that scavenged plants and the occasional bird or rabbit hadn’t been sufficient for her… condition at the time.

 It had been in the window of an electronics store that she had seen the TV set up, a cartoon show playing with annoying girls’ voices coming from the box. The show itself had shocked her, and she’d stood there for a good five minutes, watching as five cartoon girls fought their two-dimensional monster foes on the show. The show, she had learned, was called ‘Sailor Moon’. That had been the first big shock of this world. The world she had lived in for half a decade existed as a children’s television show here.

 The second big shop had been the large, movie poster that had hung in the window of the Blockbuster Movie store next to the grocery store. In large, printed block letters, the words THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING, NOW FOR SALE had stood out. The background showed faces that were only barely recognizable as the nine members of the Fellowship, Galadriel, and Arwen. The shock of seeing the very thing she was running and hiding from had forced her “condition” to begin.

 A cool breeze wafted through the trees, causing her to shiver slightly and hold the small bundle even closer. Her forehead creased in worry yet again as the little bundle moved. A glance down showed bright blue eyes staring up at her. There was no noise, but she hadn’t expected any. Even at only a month old, Elvish babies were quiet and did not cry.

 “Go back to sleep  _melme_  [love].” She shifted the weight in her arms and brought a hand up to gently rub against smooth, warm skin. A half sigh, half sob escaped her mouth and she resisted the urge to clutch the child any tighter.

 The fever would not go away. “Oh my darling  _indo_  [heart].” She glanced around, the sliver of a moon above her providing more than enough light to see by. She was perfectly safe, she knew; the trees would warn her if someone approached. But she was still slightly worried, always protective. “Come, my child.” Ithil rocked the baby, a perfect blend of the life she’d left behind, in an attempt to soothe her back to sleep.

 The baby was still too young to understand her, but she seemed to get the idea and closed her eyes again. During the month since her birth, not a single day had passed by without the tiny newborn Elf being fevered and ill. As she walked deeper into the woods toward the large tree she had made into her home, Ithil made her decision. She knew that the reason her daughter was dying was because she was too young to be in this world. Her daughter needed to be back in her own world, back where she could heal and grow strong again. And though she was reluctant to return, Ithil would do it. She would get her daughter healed, and stay out of sight until she could leave Middle-earth again.

 “ _Entulan yanna ettullen, Tilion_. [I return to whence I came, Tilion]” She whispered softly. “We shall go now, before you must suffer any more.”

~

 It had been thirteen months and fourteen days since he had last seen his youngest sister. Not that Elrohir was counting. Of course not. No, it wasn’t like he didn’t wake up every morning and hope that the entire happening hadn’t been a horrible dream, or go to bed every night adding another day to his mental count. Of course not.

 It pained him, though, to keep quiet and watch his father suffer. The Lord of Imladris still wondered why his daughter had left, why he had done something so wrong. Elrohir wouldn’t tell him what he hadn’t known then. It wasn’t his news to tell. But he wished he could, wished he could relieve at least some of the pain he knew his father was feeling.

 He wished he could see Ithil again.

 Sighing, the younger of Elrond’s twin sons glanced out the window from his bed. It was raining hard, lightning flashing across the sky occasionally. For some reason, he couldn’t sleep. He tried to tell himself it was the cold- the fire had gone out some time ago and the winter air was quickly cooling the room. But he knew it was because his father was awake down the hall, working late into the night yet again.

 Outside, a movement caught his eye. Curious, Elrohir sat up and pushed the warm blanket back, shivering as the cold air hit his bare chest. He pulled a tunic on as he moved towards the window, buttoning it up absentmindedly.

 ‘What on earth would be out in such weather?’ He thought, peering out into the storm. His room was located on the edge of one of the many gardens in the Homely House, and his room had a direct view of the walkway that led up to the main entrance of the building that housed most of the city’s residents.

 Another flash of movement drew his attention to the muddy pathway and, narrowing his eyes, he could make out the hunched-over figure that was slowly making its way up the path.

 Thoughts racing, Elrohir tore from his room, only grabbing his belt knife out of reflex, and silently raced down the corridors to the large doors that led outside. The hunched figure was just making its way up to the door when the half-Elf opened it.

 “Come in from the rain, good sir.” He didn’t know why anyone would be out in such horrible conditions, but Imladris was a refuge for any who needed it, and this person clearly could use some warm clothes and hot food, if not more. “I shall go get my father, the Lord of this place. He will see to it that you are provided shelter for the night.”

 A harsh cough came from beneath the hood of the thin cloak the person was wearing. “No, please!” Straightening slowly, the cold, wet figure shook off the hood. Blond hair, wet from the water that had soaked through the cloak’s material, cascaded down the small figure’s back. “Please, no one must know that I am here. Elrohir,” wide blue eyes met his. “I need your help. Please. We need your help.”

 Elrohir, eyes wide, took in the newcomer’s appearance. “Ithil?” He took a step back. “Ai, Valar, Ithil.” Black eyes traveled over his sister’s form, taking in the tired, wet appearance, and finally settling on the wrapped bundle in her arms. “What is going on here?” He whispered?

 An emotion that could only be called tenderness made its way into the blond’s eyes. She shifted the weight in her arms and moved to show her older brother what it was she was carrying. “Elrohir, brother, you know I would never ask for help unless there was no other option.” Ithil let the tenderness fade, and worry took over, as it had for several days now. “Her name is Tilion. She is ill, Elrohir, and I need your help to heal her. Please.”


End file.
